Mindful Moments in Kitchen and Garden

A few grateful moments lately, in no particular order:

  • I take a moment, after the kettle has boiled and I’ve filled the french press to make coffee, to go outside. I pick 3 cherry tomatoes, I pull the squash vines back through the fence where they are sneakily attempting to get into the neighbor’s yard, I pull other vines out of the driveway and off the alley so that they are trained in directions that keep them out of harms way. I pick a leaf of mint, rub it between my fingers, sniff. I go inside before the mosquitos find me so I can make breakfast.
  • I cut up celery, 3 or 4 stalks at a time, with a sharp knife. Some of the celery goes into a new batch of chicken salad, because I now seem to crave chicken salad whenever life feels overwhelming. I chop up the rest of the celery and a few carrots and package them together in a plastic bag to be frozen, for a future soup; not that I need to make frozen veggies, but mostly for the pleasure of continuing to chop.
  • When watering in the garden, I take extra care with the fledgeling pepper plant, the lone survivor in a bed that was laid waste by marauding nasturtiums. I yank those terrible sneaky vine weeds off it, carefully disentangling before viciously yanking.
  • The local community garden delivers a cardboard box full of zucchini and squash to my door, and the older couple who run it recognize me from the time I interviewed them about their work. Husband and I bask in the bounty, wondering why such lovely produce is so inexpensive for us, and with free delivery. Why isn’t it treasured?
  • I take a break from cooking to go pick basil or cilantro; cilantro gets thrown in with the black beans for a taco night; basil gets shredded to top the pasta on another night. Husband talks about making a little balcony garden just for herbs next year. We sit outside with a citronella candle burning, surveying our yard and dreaming up next steps.
  • Husband made a bar-height table out of an enormous butcher block a year ago; now, my last step to really clean up the kitchen is to take a scrubby sponge to the surface, removing coffee grounds, a stray onion shaving, all the creeping detritus left after days of cooking. I turn out the light, and go upstairs to sleep under the summer stars.

8 comments on “Mindful Moments in Kitchen and Garden

  1. foodinbooks says:

    Moments of grace! Lovely post.


  2. You have great energy.


  3. I loved this post! I look forward to reading more šŸ™‚


  4. I’m so jealous of all that squash and zucchini! Great post! I made me feel very peaceful.


  5. Would love to have a garden! Hard work, but it pays off. Enjoy!


  6. robert87004 says:

    You have a straightforward, clear style of writing your posts. Very nice! šŸ™‚


  7. rachelmjkim says:

    Thank you for the reminder to be mindful šŸ™‚


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